Parlor Tricks
by ncfan
Summary: Anakin was perhaps a bit overconfident. Or, maybe, he was very overconfident. He'd have to be, to think Padmé would actually be impressed by that. AoTC fic. AU.


**Summary**: Anakin was perhaps a bit overconfident. Or, maybe, he was very overconfident. He'd have to be, to think Padmé would actually be impressed by that. AoTC fic. AU.**  
>Pairings<strong>: onesided Anakin x Padmé**  
>Author's Note<strong>: As you guys have almost certainly gathered by now, I am _not _a fan of Padmékin. That tends to lend itself to this. If you like the pairing and you can't stand it when others don't, you probably shouldn't be reading this. It's complete and utter crack anyway. You _should _like it, though, if you like the idea of Padmé going all Leia on someone.**  
>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Star Wars. If I did, AoTC would have focused less on "romance" and more on fighting. _That's_ how I like my Star Wars.

* * *

><p>Everything was going according to plan—at least, as far as a nineteen-year-old boy with highly limited experience with women could plan. Anakin knew with the certainty of a confident young man that Padmé Amidala, senator of Naboo, was falling head over heels for him and that by the end of the week he'd be able to say, with confidence, that she was every bit as besotted with him as he was with her.<p>

Things were going _so_ well that Anakin decided to take a risk that evening while they were eating supper. Padmé looked so intoxicating in that black leather dress that Anakin got a little ahead of himself. He decided he was going to impress her.

That was how the pear from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table ended up floating in the air when Padmé asked Anakin to pass her the fruit bowl. Anakin didn't even bother asking her which fruit it was she wanted; his eyes simply lighted on the pear and he made it float with the Force, slowly towards her plate.

For a moment, Padmé didn't say anything. She stared at the floating pear.

Anakin held his breath.

Then, her face broke into a wide smile and she giggled, and Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

Yes, things were going perfectly.

-0-

Meanwhile, the _real_ Padmé Amidala was not nearly so amused as the hallucination that Anakin had summoned to bolster his painfully fragile ego. She watched, eyebrows raised, as the pear floated towards her, chin propped on her knitted hands, having abandoned the "no elbows on the table" rule of dinner etiquette.

_Really?_

Padmé curled her lip as she watched the pear make a slow procession towards her. _Let me review the facts. First, this child comes up with some brilliant remark about how I've "grown more beautiful". _Padmé was used to flattery; she _had_ been the Queen after all, and she was the Senator now. She was used to compliments concerning her looks and had long since become inured to their effects, not that they had ever really affected her much to start with. Padmé knew she was beautiful, and made sure others knew it too. She'd used her beauty as a weapon, as a campaign tool. It had been devastatingly effective when she had run for Queen; the public was enchanted with the angelic little girl who promised reform and a new dawn. And Anakin _really_ thought that telling her she was beautiful was going to sway her? Padmé resisted rolling her eyes; she was above such childish displays. Anakin was going to have to get a little more creative than that before Padmé was going to be impressed.

_Second, he forcefully kisses me out of nowhere._ The body of a Queen, past and present, was sacred, untouchable. Padmé valued this, had used it in the past, and enjoyed the sense of security it had brought her._ Anakin should count himself lucky I didn't have him arrested for assault. _Her person was inviolable and Anakin had just marched up to her and kissed her like it was nothing, like she had _wanted_ it, acted like she had _enjoyed_ it later. Did he really think he was going to get away with that? Did he really think Padmé would act like it had never happened, or as though it was nothing to worry about?

And now… _Oh, airborne fruit. This is rich._ Apparently, no one had ever told Anakin that Padmé Amidala without a doubt preferred her fruit to be earthbound. On her plate and in her stomach, preferably.

Padmé sighed; Anakin didn't notice. How many times had she seen performers in Theed do something similar during a festival? How many times? And without the aid of the Force too. _Now, if he was making the pear fly without the Force, _then_ I might be a little impressed. But seeing as he isn't, I can't say I find a cheap little parlor trick like this all that impressive. It's rather pathetic, actually._

_Alright, enough of this. Play time is over and the child needs a reality check. I wish I could say the game has been enjoyable but it hasn't and it stops here._

-0-

"Anakin." The sheer amount of coolness contained in that single word was enough to bring Anakin out of his delusions.

When he came back to reality, he saw something distinctly different from what his daydream-hazed mind had been showing him.

Padmé _was_ not giggling, nor was she smiling. She didn't look very amused at all; quite the opposite, really.

An eyebrow rose delicately, and Anakin felt his face redden. "Anakin, I will thank you to return the pear to its fruit bowl," Padmé said frostily. The pear promptly nestled itself back against the grapes and the apple. "Especially considering I wanted the pomegranate." The pomegranate started to rise from the fruit bowl but Padmé quickly shot down that idea. "And I would greatly prefer if you would pass the fruit bowl to me with your _hands_."

Anakin did so, cheeks burning and eyes fixed on his plate.

When he ventured to look up, Anakin decided that he'd never seen someone manage to make such a fierce glare looks so polite in his life.

Just _what_ had it been that made him find Padmé—Senator Amidala; Anakin knew the feelings were dead when he started to willingly refer to her as that in his mind—so attractive?

_The Senator and Master Obi-Wan certainly would make a pair though_, Anakin decided, glaring sourly at the young woman who was now eating her pomegranate with indolent grace and behaving as though he wasn't there.

She was certainly just as grumpy as Obi-Wan. It never occurred to Anakin that maybe, just maybe, making a pear float across a table _wasn't_ the way into a woman's heart. He was far too egotistical to think that _he_ had actually made a mistake.

No… The problem was that she was definitely a bitch.


End file.
